The tall, lanky demon lay sprawled on its throne, content with the creaking and gearing noises surrounding him. With ink splattered across its face, obscuring its eyes from view, the demon closed them gently, sighing softly as it curled into a messy ball. 

The spines which ridged his back were sharp, nearly piercing the chair's outsides. His smile was stuck, but it didn't mean he was happy. He could still be pissed as all hell, and still bare this... Cursed smile. And yet, even now, the demon was content with its surroundings, the familiar noises which accompanied this studio containing all its machinery and gimmicks. 

Bendy curled his claws and brought his fists up to his face, awaiting sleep to overcome him... 

And with sleep, thoughts. 

Many thoughts...

____

Bendy  wallowed in peace. The chase for sleep was rushed, but it was worth it in the end when it grew to be a tie. 

The ink demon was aware of every single thing around him... Every heartbeat, every groan, every praise, every prayer... 

Every calling...

The demon knew it was all foolish for himself to be called a Lord or Savior... That title was mistaken, and he knew it. This monster- though soulless, had a heart. And though it was supposedly an empty carcass made of ink... He had...

Feelings. 

It was an enigma to process. He wasn't even a cartoon- he was a monster of a defect. 

The first try... The grinning demon...

Bendy let out a whimper as he thought back to what his creator thought of him. 

"Keep it locked up tight!"

Bendy hugged himself tighter in sleep. Was it is his fault he was hated? After all, it wasn't like he could just control what he looked like. He couldn't control if he had a soul or not! It simply wasn't fair; that human hadn't understood anything. The possibilities in that greedy man's eyes were extended after Bendy- that first creation born from the machine- was written off as a soulless monster. 

And then, there were always the highlights of being feared. It was always peaceful- or, at least when he chose to ignore the callings which were all chanted to him in this dark abyss... This... Hell.

The demon knew how easily everything could change. It only took one thing- the End. That one word forced rapid shudders through his unstable body. Of course, being practically immortal would seem to be amazing for anyone... But if you were the one who could change everything... That thought in itself was a heavy and unfiltered burden to hoist upon one's fragile shoulders. 

The demon didn't mean to be bad. It didn't know what that was, because he had never been taught morals. He had never been raised. Bendy was born and tossed aside, locked up tight. 

Bendy growled, jerking awake to a loud banging. Another thing about his defects- his hearing was unique. Sometimes it was a bonus to be able to hear so well, while other times it was simply infuriating. 

In his hazy memory of birth, he remembered strange, pale hands. A swirling of black tinted with a honeyed gold tinge. Shouts, something breaking, a strange, bright light. Cries of outrage- something about a monster. 

'What is a monster?'  he had thought to himself. As he had stood there, taking in his surroundings, a seemingly permanent smile glued to his face, his hidden eyes swerved to the frightened faces in front of him. There were two... He would never had known their names if not for the audio tapes years later. Something was linked between two characters; though he could never explain what. 

The demon tried to close its hidden eyes once more, but his dwellings delved even deeper. 

'What was my purpose? To entertain children? To hold hands?' 

Bendy's 'forehead' scrunched deeply in thought. 

'Soulless, huh? What is the purpose of one? Why didn't I own one?'

'Forgotten? No, I am still remembered. This will be my resting place one day. And when that day comes, I'll greet that honeysuckle light once more.'

Bendy pushed himself to get up, even though he really didn't want to. He always felt at peace in this place... The reason he himself didn't know. It was strangely calming to see those old hand-drawn cartoons from the golden days... It always gave the Ink Demon a reason to sit still and watch lazily, even though he had no one to share this magnificent, calming joy with. 

He had thought about, and even wondered, what it would be like to have someone by his side. Where would he be now, if there were others like him to talk to him, to show him appreciation, and to not squeal in fear when he came near? Sometimes the demon would make up small stories in his horned head... About being at peace, being set free, and some even leaving this place. 

Of course he was most likely stuck here, but in the end he couldn't care less. 

With that being said... He had once held horrid thoughts which he could not decipher. Little did he know, or was even capable of being taught was that he had depression. He could gloom over a topic over and over in his head, sometimes while holding that reel, or even staring at the good old cartoons. 

One day, he would move on to be a shy character in relate to his original design, while partaking in his altered design from Joey. Henry's crossed out design was always a cute little slip of paper to take a look at every now and then, especially when he couldn't help but binge all of the episodes for unknown reasons. 

Now, in all of the Ink Demon's honesty, with the subject of Henry, he had always wondered about this man. Through all of the audio tapes strewn across the studios, there were very few of Henry. This man was a mystery in itself, which sort of intrigued the demon. Whenever passing by one of this man's audio logs, he couldn't resist pressing that button and listening to this character's voice. 

Bendy prided on the prospect that this fatherly figure had designed his cartoon form. Screw what Joey changed; the demon had respect for this man. 

And one day...

He wanted to meet him. 

His...

Creator.

Bendy stood and lumbered back over to the entrance of the hallway which led to the throne room and placed a hand on the wall, and phased through the wall, leaving a tangled mess of writhing, inky puddles behind. They represented veins, and it was a sign of the Ink Demon's power and rule over the studio when even the messed up blobs shrunk in fear whenever the veins stretched near. 

The Ink Demon breathed a huff of a breath and lumbered around, occasionally killing off a member or few, but at the moment Bendy didn't give a care. 

He wanted to see something new. This creature's heart longed for chase, a desire he wanted to fulfill. 

...And how better to do that than to scout every crack in the walls, where hidden eyes stalked and quivered whenever the demon addressed them with a tilt of the head, automatically scaring them off. 

Sometimes the demon felt guilt when the creatures of the studio quaked at his presence. 

But Hell...

Someone needs to keep them in check...

With that thought, he bent down and pulled up a board, to see a tiny book. Picking it up gently, for the leather cover was dusted with debris, and torn at some of the edges. The demon tucked the book beneath his 'armpit' and continued on his way, scouting every edge. He held the sinking feeling that he was always missing something in his life, and he never could find a 'plausible theory' or 'what'. 

Bendy felt a cool shiver dash up from his spine as he glanced around, the sound of something brand new skulking around the darkness. 

Ba-dum, ba-dum, ba-dum, ba-dum...

It was a noise of which the Ink Demon had heard a rare few times... It sounded...

Humane. 

The demon felt a sharp spike of excitement dash through him as emotion coursed through him. 

'Now, who could that person be~?'

Bendy lumbered off, and stumbled face to face to someone who he had never seen before... And yet...

It was the person he had been dying to meet.

And when he meant dying...

He meant literally...

'Henry Stein~'

__

BAM!

Bendy awoke with his head stuffed with cramped thoughts as he pushed himself off the bed, eyes fluttering as they adjusted to the present. 

His heart was fluttering quite fast, and the cartoon willed it to calm down before sliding from the sheets and onto the hardwood bedroom floor. He looked in the mirror, rubbing his eyes. 

There, in replace to the cartoon's pressurized body, was a tall, spiny figure. 

With a grimace, Bendy rubbed his eyes, and when he opened them again, there it was again. 

"Sh*t..." He heard himself say, and rubbed his 'temples'. He always saw this form in the mirror- his true self. This body...? Form, whatever he felt like calling it... It couldn't possibly be real. It felt real, looked convincing, but deep down the demon knew he was the same demon. Just... Released. 

Bendy looked in the mirror once more, carefully placing his right hand to the mirror, and traced down... 

When he saw it's own reflection, he saw deep scratches in the reflective surface as he sighed and withdrew his hand. 

Stepping away, he reached for his music player and plugged himself in. 

He didn't want another painful reminder that he was a mirage. 

He had enough 'fun' for one day...

___

1601 words

To be Continued...

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